Residue

As raw as ever and so full of power.

Ventures of a love-sick fool and poetic menace.

Love is a gambling addiction

and sex, its fishing lure.

You can give your body a thousand times

But your heart, only a few,

really.

We give away pieces with every fall.

Not the trips, the stumbles, or the almost.

But, in the corrosive, deep, marrow of the term

coined to describe the feeling that makes life worth living

and death a villain.

My mother still wonders about the first Michael she ever loved

while Gino keep pictures of her in a shoe-box hidden in the back of his closet.

You once said that your parents still love each other

with pause in the response

because you don’t want a love like that for yourself.

It would be settling,

 which is one of your least favorite words,

next to commitment and… help.

The first woman I ever touched took a small chunk

when she handled me like an option instead…

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About Ben Naga

Pilgrim on the lam. Please feel free to explore the links to learn more. I trust you will find some things there will have been worth the effort. See you there.

Posted on August 19, 2015, in Poem - Not Written By Me Though. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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